damned_institute | Night 46: M91-100 Hallway

Once the intercom came on and he heard the door unlock, Heiji was up off his bed and out of the room with his katana over his shoulder. The sooner he got to Shinichi and Kaito, the sooner they rifled through all of this place's files and found their culprit.

Hopefully there would be medical files as well. He didn't expect them to chronicle a gunshot wound that someone received while at the institute, but perhaps a small puncture wound would be noted. The psychological sections would also be useful when compared with his and Shinichi's thoughts on the killer's MO and psychological profile. Unless it described the guy as some kind of happy-go-lucky charity worker.

Then they'd be screwed.

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/786163.html)]

Joshua walked out of the door to his room without comment, then lounged against the wall with the elaborate boredom of someone who was waiting but clearly would prefer having things on their own terms. Granted, Leonard was probably someone who'd be pretty punctual, so long as he kept his notes handy, but he was curious about whether the man could navigate his way. Even maps could be difficult if he couldn't keep his mind on what landmarks there were. He kind of wanted to see that... but for now, no, it was time to wait. And hope that he wasn't kept waiting for too long.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/780555.html?thread=64050699#t64050699).]

Leonard entered the hallway, eyeing the note in his hand and the numerous doors in the hallway. Only a few feet in, and his flashlight illuminated the face from the polaroid in his hand. He double-checked, making sure- the dark was stifling, but this looked like the same kid. Leonard wasn't sure what a teenager wanted with him, but he was sure he'd found out in a moment.

"Joshua," he addressed as he got within conversation distance.

"There you are! I was starting to worry that you'd get lost on the way." Joshua grinned as he heard the familiar voice- couldn't see the face quite yet, with the flashlight beam pointed in his direction, but he knew who it was just from that one word.

Well, that, and he was the only person Joshua was expecting to meet here. "Ready to go, I hope? I'm afraid that we're going to have one extra straggler, I hope you won't mind."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Leonard answered as he tucked away the photograph, crumpling the note between his fingers. "I don't mind an extra body if you don't."

He looked over his shoulder, catching his breath from the brisk walk. "He meeting us here?"

That was good. He was hoping that the man would be a little open-minded about such things, but 'hope' was not what showed on his face. Rather, he seemed pleased with himself, as though things had worked exactly the way he'd planned.

Which, in a way, it had. The only thing that worried him was Leonard having to catch his breath. He'd hoped for a little more stamina from the man... if a little walk winded him, then he wouldn't stand a chance against Sho Minamimoto. Pity, that.

"All right, then I'll lead the way. Glad to have you aboard," he laughed as he passed the man by, leading the way further into the Institute.

((To here.)) (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/781393.html?view=64171089#t64171089)

Some point before dinner, Nigredo managed to stop his tears. To his credit, the boy hadn't broken into sobs as had been the case in the past couple of days. Crying itself had become unbearable; his body could not handle the amount of stress incurred. The act of release was an emphasis of this, and therefore, he bit down the need and carried on.

How long this would progress was up for questioning.

The evening proved very quiet, a fact the child took in stride. He wasted no time preparing for the night (and where would he go with no purpose in mind), both of his brothers' weapons strapped and ready for use. Neither he wanted to touch but leaving them in the same vicinity of his roommate was a poor idea. More so after their talk. Who was he to question a preference for safety as opposed to trust?

The usual strange prelude rang overhead as it did times before, but tonight, Nigredo couldn't say he recalled a single word. His ears perked instead at the soft clicking of the door's lock, and he moved out into the hallway.

[To here.]

Edited 2010-01-04 05:35 (UTC)

When Sync returned to his room he didn't bother to pay any attention to Nigredo as they ate in silence. He knew exactly what he'd said last night, but he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with another mess. That didn't mean he wasn't going to confront the shorter boy at some point, but now wasn't the time for that. After all, they had the rest of eternity.

Considering his current state, carrying more than necessary would just be idiotic. In the end he decided to travel light, sliding his notebook and pen into the waistband of his pants. However, much to his surprise, reaching under his pillow revealed another replacement for his flashlight. Making sure it worked properly, Sync waited for Nigredo to leave the room first before following suit a minute later.

The teen scanned the hallway for a moment and, after spotting a certain silver haired individual, scoffed lightly before making his way to the door.

Sleeping was something Rolo had to remember to do more, since he couldn't waste time sleeping during the night or day, to be honest. The best time was during dinner, but that meant skipping out on a meal (and a talk with his roommate, which Rolo didn't deem that important yet), and that's precisely what he did. He couldn't say that he felt well rested when he awoke to the Head Doctor's ramblings, dismissing the strange words as nothing important.

He didn't feel rested, but better? Maybe. The talk with that girl was enough to lift Rolo's spirits a little when he remembered that he arranged a meeting with that gimp. Chemical storage... sounded good enough. If the kid tried anything, Rolo could kill him easily anyway.

And speak of the devil, once Rolo packed up his stuff (and by stuff, he meant his flashlight and a pillowcase to carry anything good), he stepped out the corridor and found the gimp almost immediately. How convenient.

"You're making this really easy for me, it's almost suspicious," Rolo commented, carefully approaching the gimp in case he was hiding any surprises. It was suspicious.

Edited 2010-01-04 20:12 (UTC)

So not only were they residing in the same block, but the same hallway as well. Sync quirked an eyebrow, also finding this a little too convenient, but in the end he shrugged it off.

"Almost." Now that this was taken care off, all that was left was to pick up Dahlia and to reach the chemical storage on the second floor. The location had already been labeled on his map, so as long as they didn't come across anything remotely threatening then they could complete their objective within an hour's time.

"Anyway, follow me." While most would've been wary of turning away from a suspicious character, Sync didn't bother to waste the energy.

[To here.]

Forte had moved from his previous room, but the first time he met Teisel, they had both just left. So he headed for the next hall, where he used to be, and leaned against a wall to wait. It was getting tiring, constantly hobbling around with the crutches, and his side was aching despite keeping himself propped up.

The meeting with Forte had somewhat slipped Teisel's mind by the time night rolled around, particularly after that...unusually creepy announcement. As he left his room, Teisel wondered idly who Pencil Neck had been talking to, and who he'd been talking about. He had the sneaking suspicion that it went back to those stretches of missing time he still hadn't accounted from from a few days ago.

The missing time problem was especially disturbing in light of his recent freak-out, or whatever the Todd incident could properly be called. Had "Todd" been at the helm in Doyleton, too? Was that why he couldn't remember-

"Ack!" Teisel windmilled his arms, trying desperately to regain his balance. He failed, but managed to more or less catch himself with his knuckles, unwilling to drop neither flashlight nor pipe. Brandishing the pipe and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his hand, he looked for what had tripped him.

Oh. One of Forte's crutches.

"What the hell are you doing skulking around in the hall like that?" he snapped, equally spooked and embarrassed at being taken so completely by surprise. "And don't leave those things laying around all over the place!" Picking himself up off the floor, he cast a glare at the crutches. "You're liable to break somebody else's leg."

Resting as he was, Forte closed his eyes while he waited for Teisel to leave his room. After all, he was probably easy enough to spot, with his crutches sticking out into the-

"Ow!" Some idiot kicked one of his crutches into his leg in the dark, nearly knocking him over, and forcing him to strain his side catching himself (for the second time today!).

Looking down, he saw Teisel shouting at him - they'd found each other after all. "Yeah, well, you just need to watch where you're going! I was just standing here when you ran into me!"

"Well, why didn't you just knock?!" Teisel shot back. His knuckles were really starting to sting; he wouldn't be surprised if he'd busted them open on the tile. "Stupid kid," he muttered, "standing around in the dark like a damn idiot."

He took a moment to rearrange his hair. His hair-tie was starting to wear out and the impromptu trip to the floor had jostled his ponytail loose, and the wisps of loose hair sticking out all over were aggravating. There wasn't much he could do with his hands full, though. "You had a question, or something, right?" Still irritated, he blew a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Go in, then. We can't just stand around out here like a couple a' jackasses."

Forte would have offered to help Teisel up, but his own hands were full holding himself up. "I didn't know what room you're in! How am I supposed to know that?" When he was reminded of why he wanted to talk to Teisel, he looked around, "Yeah, I don't want to talk about it out here," and hobbled into what he supposed was the door Teisel had just come from.

Teisel was halfway through a shouted reply when it occurred to him that, no, he never had told Forte which room he stayed in. "Well...you should have asked," he said, feeling foolish and hoping it didn't show.

Following Forte inside, he shut the door and crossed the room to balance his flashlight on the desk. It made a poor lamp, but it was better than nothing. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about? You seemed sorta anxious on the board."

Now that they were safely in Teisel's room, Forte was starting to get nervous again. Even though Yukari had actually gotten him to admit he had feelings for Sheena, she didn't exactly leave him feeling trusting.

Instinctively avoiding Teisel's eyes, he started to talk a lot less confidently. "Okay. Well, there's- Uh, there's... this... problem... it's a weird human thing, I think... and I feel strange, and confused around... well... " he finally blurted out, almost under his breath. He wanted to ask Teisel for advice, so it was best to just get it out there, right? For better or for worse.

Teisel could just barely catch what Forte was trying to say, the kid had gotten so quiet. Oh, brother. He was really no good at this sort of thing...

"That's normal for a kid your age," he said, not entirely sure what help he'd be able to give. It'd been hard enough going through The Talk with Tron, and she'd at least understood the concept. Forte didn't seem to have a clue. "Is she one of your friends?" Teisel hadn't met any of Forte's other allies, but if it was someone Forte already knew things would be a little easier. She'd cut the kid some slack, for one thing. Romance was hard enough for people who were used to the idea.

Forte was relieved that Teisel wasn't making fun of him, and relaxed... just slightly. He did still protest, "It's not normal for me!"

He hesitated to answer the older man's question, just because he had been avoiding using the word 'friends' this entire time. But there was no point in trying to act tough and uncaring now... "Yeah, she's the one that was teaching me to fight unarmed. But then I kept getting... confused whenever I was around her. Like my head's in a fog, you know? I kept getting distracted by the way she looks... I mean, you know, when she was training me." His face was turning red again, both from embarrassment and remembering when she put her hands on him, to correct his stance, or to comfort him when he was frustrated. "She's just... really nice. And someone told me all that means I'm... ." It was almost painful, forcing the words out, but it was nice to just tell someone he trusted.

"It is now," Teisel replied, somewhat teasing. The kid may or may not have been a robot back home, but he was human now. He needed to get with it.

Listening to the kid pour out his troubles, Teisel made sure to keep his expression carefully blank. It wasn't easy; something about the way Forte, who usually put up a real 'tough guy' front, was stumbling over his words was absolutely hilarious. Laughing in his face would only make him angry, however, and Teisel actually liked the little bastard. He was a little surprised to realize he genuinely didn't want to upset him.

"Well," he said after taking a moment to digest what he'd just been (very haltingly) told. "That sounds about right." He wasn't sure how he was supposed to help with this, though. This weird paternal stuff wasn't his strong suit. To buy himself time, he made himself comfortable on his bed, leaning back against the wall. The first thing, he supposed, was to figure out how comfortable Forte was with this new situation. "So what are you planning to do about this?"

There was that question again... what was he going to do? How would Forte know, that's why he was asking Teisel. "I don't know, I was just going to ignore it. But then... yesterday happened. Frank talked to Sheena, and screwed everything up." And of course, 'Frank' didn't have the problems with all this that Forte had. He knew what he wanted, and what to say. "I don't understand exactly what they were talking about, but he- I mean, when I was Frank, I tried to tell her how I felt and she," he struggled to sum up how it felt, in terms he was familiar with, "...shot me down. So I don't know what I should do now at all." As he listened to himself, he realized how pathetic he was sounding. But this was an area completely foreign to him, and he was just as lost as he sounded.

"Ah." That made things more complicated. "Either she didn't go for it because it was Frank talking, or she really isn't interested." That was a shame, but such was life. Even Teisel himself had been turned down a time or two. "It could be she just needs time to get used to the idea, but in the meantime, yeah, you should probably back off," he said, disappointed that he had to be the bearer of such disheartening advice. He didn't know what else to tell the kid, though. You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn't make it drink, and his friend had apparently made it pretty clear that she wasn't thirsty and his metaphor was running away with him.

If she wasn't interested, then there really wasn't much else to be done.

"Sucks, eh?"

"Yeah..." That was an understatement... this whole situation was just getting more complicated and confusing. It sucked worse than most of what the institute had done to him so far. "I guess that's good, though. I already... kind of... ran away when I saw her today." Dammit, it sounded even worse to say it out loud, but he had panicked. Of course, that was when Yukari found him, so talking to Sheena would have probably been less painful.

"Do you really think it could have just been because it was Frank?" There was a sinking feeling that had been haunting him when he thought about it, that there was no way he would have a better a chance than Frank. After all, this teenager knew a lot more about love, and just being human than Forte. He'd... said nice things to her (had Forte ever complimented her? Maybe about her fighting... maybe), told her he'd never leave her (and Forte just ran away), and just knew what to say.

"I guess... she did try to tell me who I am. She didn't really say she rejected me, I - or Frank - just... felt rejected. I don't really know why, it's too confusing." There was a nagging feeling that that wasn't why Frank had suddenly given up, but it was the first time it had occurred to him that Sheena had wanted him to be Forte, and not Frank. She wanted him to come back. That was a nice thought, if nothing else.

Teisel quickly turned a snicker into a cough. Just the thought of Mr. Tough Guy running away from some girl was almost too much.

"It's a possibility," he said. "Frank wasn't anyone to her, aside from some jackass. You're the one she knows, right?"

Forte seemed to be talking himself down a little, and again Teisel had to wonder what he was supposed to say. The kid seemed to be figuring it out just fine on his own. "Just lay low for a while. And don't nag her about it, okay? Believe me, women hate when you do that." Teisel himself wasn't fond of the treatment, either, but there was only one person who'd ever kept pursuing him after he'd turned them down, and he wasn't about to get into that. "I know it's confusing, and I wish I could tell you it gets better, kid, but it really doesn't."

He still sounded despondent but thanked Teisel. "Well, thanks anyway. It's nice to just talk to someone that's not mocking me for it." Forte usually avoiding thinking about anything complicated or unpleasant, but even if Teisel wasn't saying much, talking to him was helping the bot sort himself out.

"I don't even know what I want. What am I supposed to do when I feel this way about a girl? I mean, if they didn't screw everything up by messing with my head?"

It had been tempting to laugh, but Teisel had managed to show a rare bit of self-restraint, and it seemed to have paid off. Tron would have been so proud. He was getting better at this interpersonal crap. "Hell, kid, everyone's been in your situation; it's not anything special. I know I'm not much help, but it's just one of those things, y'know?" He shrugged, rearranging his hair and trying to corral the bits that kept falling out of the hair-tie.

"Usually, you'd ask her out to dinner, or something. That's not really an option in here," he said. "You'd be better off asking someone your own age about the actual wooing. I'm older, so I wouldn't go about it the same way you..." He trailed off, a thought occurring to him. "How old are you, anyway?"

Great... so, it was nothing special, everyone's been in his situation, but no-one could give him a straight answer what to do.

He thought back to Wily's various schemes - it took about a year for him to rebuild and try to take over the world again. "A couple years," he guessed. "You're the only other human I know here, besides Sheena. I don't think Sechs or Depth Charge would know anymore than I do." Sechs did say he was a cyborg, so maybe he knew more about this human stuff, but just as importantly, he'd just gotten the fighter's respect back and didn't want to let him know he was so broken up over his feelings.

"Hey, you don't tell anybody about this, okay," he warned Teisel sternly. The last thing he needed was more people thinking of him as this confused, helpless wreck.

"You're two?" What was it with robots? Couldn't they ever be a reasonable age? Either they were older than civilization itself or they were brand new. At least Forte was brighter than Sechs, for being the same age... "Well, that explains a few things, anyway."

Teisel raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, come on. Who would I tell? I'm not some gossip," he said, somewhat put out by the accusation. Like he was a chatty housewife, or something (a mental image he quickly put out of mind, apron and all). Hell, there was only one other person in here that Teisel really spoke to, and he wasn't about to tell Zex anything at all about Forte, especially after learning just how young he really was. Poor kid.

Forte just shrugged, not knowing why it mattered, "maybe three or four. Oh yeah, did you talk to Sechs? He's pretty pissed about us stopping his fight last night."

"Yeah, 'cause two more years makes such a big friggin' difference." Teisel leaned forward to pop his back. Leaning against the wall wasn't very comfortable. It wasn't so long ago that things like that didn't bother him, but he was starting to get on in years, for a pirate.

"Don't talk to me about Sechs," he said, wincing at the unfortunate sentence that made, given their earlier topic of conversation. "If he's got such a problem, then he can take it up with me. I'm not going to him." Who did that dumbass think he was, anyway? It wasn't like Teisel had broken up the fight on purpose! ...Well, he sort of had, but he hadn't been in his right mind, so it wasn't his fault. Sechs would have to just deal with it.

Dinner was a silent affair. The nurses were tight lipped about Allelujah's lack of roommate, refused to tell him anything about what had happened to Fai in their delusional world and eventually left him alone with his meal. It was... uncomfortable. Being alone shouldn't have left him feeling as strange as it did. He was used to being alone, he preferred it in most cases, or he had preferred it until he'd arrived here. He'd spent a week in solitary confinement without much effect. But now- Fai had been there ever since Allelujah had been there. They weren't exactly the closest of confidants, but he was a reassuring presence and now he was dead, like so many others that Allelujah had seen. Perhaps he should take a step back, away from people because they just died. They always died.

He ate quickly, barely tasting the food, and then just sat, waiting for night to fall. He set his cutlery aside neatly, just sitting there, staring at the empty plate as he waited for night to fall, and his movements when they did were mechanical, a deadly machine rather than a human.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/780555.html?view=64209931#t64209931)]

Edited 2010-01-07 23:48 (UTC)

Sho awoke with a snort and a start. At some point after ingesting turkey at a higher rate of velocity than was normally advisable, he had lost consciousness. Some might call it sleep, but the mathematician considered it a complete loss of all his senses. Now, in the dark, he awoke.

"Huh? What? Query? What time is it?" he sputtered before he realized he was both alone and there was no clock anyway to tell him. Fumbling around in the dark, he eventually located his flashlight. From there, it was a simple matter to suit up again in his jacket and boots. He grabbed the makeshift megaphone he'd made, the lighter and one of the aerosol cans. These went in his pockets while his free hand grabbed the paper cutter arm. It seemed the shovel was the odd number out this time, so it sat in the closet as he raced out of the room and down the hall.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/788243.html?thread=64281619#t64281619)]

How odd...Bucciarati had been waiting for hours, and yet his roommate had never arrived...Well, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. There was no telling how strong this mysterious man was, and Bucciarati wasn't eager to find out. A more pressing concern was the intercom message that had come on...something about someone rising from the dead? It seemed odd to Bucciarati, but his knowledge of the institute was woefully lacking. It was possible that the staff here had some way to resurrect the dead. In fact, such a stand would be downright normal compared to other ones.

In any case, it wouldn't do Bucciarati any good if he were to just sit around and wait in his room. After briefly looking through his dressers and grabbing a flashlight, Bucciarati tentatively opened the door to the hallway and slowly began exploring the institute.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/788243.html?thread=64523539#t64523539).]

Night 46: M91-100 Hallway

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